About Me

Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Herd Mentality

Trying to blog with a herd of animals surrounding me is a challenge of epic proportions. Trust me. Especially if two of said animals have the need for scritches, scratches, constant attention or want what you are eating/drinking. Oh. And their heads are the size of my lap top.

Duncan may have been on my list several times (read daily) this week. But, I have a feeling he's taking home some different and possibly as annoying (ha, more annoying than stealthy pooping on the floor, doubt it!!!) habits. He's run with two big dogs (and manages to join their wrestling matches without fear or injury) all week, and he's made a frenemy of Feral.

Feral thinks he's part of the pack. And he pretty much is, however, Lola is always annoyed at Feral's ability to jump onto small spaces to get closer to the humans, and often head butts him or slugs him. Duncan is a little more up close and personal with Feral and he can get to places that Lily and Lola couldn't even consider, leaving Feral with a very unwanted shadow more often than not. Feral has done a lot of growling (yes, he growls... weird cat trick...he growls when someone knocks on the door) and running.

Duncan also has discovered the peanut butter knife ritual. Every morning I make Rob and I a peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. And every day the girls get to lick the magically delicious peanut butter spreader. Duncan now lines up with them and sits, waiting his turn for a lick of doggie nirvana proportions P B and J.

He'll leave tomorrow and I'll kind of miss the little nugget... but not his stealth nuggets, mind you.